The After Image
by Equivamp
Summary: 19yr old Cricket was chased from her home and onto the streets by a disturbing special ability. She sees people who are going to die. Her gift leads her to Washington where she meets the Cullens. Will she save them or destroy them? M for dark themes.
1. Welcome to Port Angeles

**Disclaimer:**

**This world and most of the characters belong to Stephanie Meyers. My main character Cricket, is inspired by Tara Bray Smith's character Nix from her novel Betwixt.**

**Betwixt is about fairies not vampires.**

**Nix is a fairy and will not be making an appearance in this story. **

**Cricket is not a fairy and will be telling this story.**

**Got it?**

**Good.**

* * *

I walked down the street at a leisurely pace. It had to be nearing midnight, and the only light came from the occasional streetlamp but I wasn't worried. I have my survival kit. A messenger bag from a previous life slung securely over my shoulder and across my chest, -- packed with a change of clothes, a toothbrush, a notebook and pen, a package of beef jerky, and a couple of recently filled recycled water bottles -- the acoustic guitar I got from a pawn shop for an antique diamond brooch was strapped to my back, and my money was hidden sporadically over me for safe keeping. It was just another lonely night on the streets.

I prefer it lonely. Being lonely makes things easier for me.

I lived most of my life with my grandparents in Massachusetts. My parents died in a car accident when I was two, and for the most part, I never miss them. I can't miss something I don't even remember having, and if it weren't for my grandparents photos I wouldn't have a clue what they even looked like. My mom, Elise, had had the same hair color, light brown, shot through with highlights of gold. My grandmother had always called it sandy. My father, Darren, had contributed his lightly freckled round cheeks to my face. My smile was a combination of the two. Her full lips with his dimples.

When I was twelve I began to see the light that eventually made me leave home. The thing is, "seeing the light" means something a hell of a lot different to me, than it does to other people. I _literally_ see a light. People get this glowing aura of bright white light just before they die. Trust me, I know.

Sometimes the light is so bright, it's physically painful to look at… The way it was with Robert. His was the first light I saw. He was my grandfather's fishing buddy, and the night he walked into our house glowing brighter than the sun… First, the brightness caused my eyes to tear up. Second, I fled screaming to my room frightened of a man I had known for several years. On some people it's fuzzy and hard to see, the way it was with my grandmother. That just means the death is farther away. Her death was coming, later instead of sooner, her light would gradually grow brighter and brighter until I couldn't see her figure anymore only the light and then she would die.

That's why I left. I didn't want to watch her die. And others, so many others I knew who didn't have the glow but sooner or later would. Running was easier than waiting. I saw the light on my grandmother when I was fifteen. I've been on the run for four years.

I guess homeless is the term most used for me and people like me, but I don't look like the stereotypical bum because I'm not. I bounce around from place to place and each time I land in a new place, I pick up part time or odd jobs and I make sure to get paid in cash. I can then spend some money on one of those junkie-and-whore-pay-by-the-hour motels, the kind of place you could get an STD just by sitting on the bed. Anyways, I pay for an hour, use the shower, change clothes, then haul ass to a Laundromat to wash my dirty set so they will be clean for rotation. Being clean means I can stand in the park or on a street corner and play my guitar for handouts looking more like a high school student ditching school than a hobo hassling the good citizens.

As for finding a place to stay, that's easy enough too. There are always hangouts for street kids, made by street kids, if your in a city. If not, it's a matter of knowing what to look for. A cheap motel that doesn't mind longer term residents as long as the payment is on time, an area wooded heavily enough that a tarp is all that's needed to protect from the elements, a homeless shelter works if your desperate, a woman's shelter if you have no qualms about lying…

I stopped walking and squinted up at the street sign. I could just make out the big white letters on the blue background.

"Welcome to Port Angeles," I read out loud.

Washington. What a stupid place to come. It rained way too much to make street living easy. I'll just stay long enough to get some cash and then travel south. California maybe. I hadn't been there, yet.

I was ready to crash, but I wouldn't make the mistake of being caught out in the rain. Even in the dark I could tell, that this was a touristy town. The sidewalks were clean, the shop windows glittered… Places like this had the pretty front, pretty shops and pretty vacation houses. I knew from experience that further in there would be and industrial park or a warehouse district, and at least one of those building will have a "For Rent" sign. Those ones are usually vacant and good for squatting for the night.

A car drove passed, the high beams hitting me, encouraging me forward. So I started walking again, taking notice of the places that were still open. A pharmacy, a convenience store, a doughnut shop, a bar… The bar was on my side of the street and as I passed by it I heard the door open behind me and a couple of someones stumble out. One of them whistled a cat call after me and the other called out, "Hey! Baby girl!"

I didn't speed up as most women would have or slow down for that matter or react in anyway. I wasn't afraid. It would have made sense for me, a nineteen year old girl who was traveling alone on a dark street, to be afraid of two strange men, but I wasn't. Living on the streets, I had seen things… done things… Not much scared me these days.

As I walked deeper into the city, I began to get that tingle on the back of the neck sensation. I was being followed. I maintained my pace but tried to take quieter steps, so I could hear who was following me. I listened and then… there! Someone stepped into a puddle.

The street I was on now was deserted. The street lights still glowed but no one was around to see me but me. At least I'd be able to see my attacker. I took my guitar off of my back so I could move more freely, and lowered the black case quietly to the pavement. Then I waited. I didn't have to wait long.

There were two of them, reeking of booze, and looking like they were up to something stupid. I almost laughed. The two drunks from the bar. Of course.

"Baby girl, I'm glad we caught up with you," the first guy said in a now familiar voice.

I got to work memorizing him. Beefy. Long hair. Eyebrow piercing. Tattoo partly visible underneath the sleeve of a t-shirt. Taller than me, so maybe five ten. Mostly things that would come in handy on an anonymous tip. The other guy too. Buzz cut. Goatee. Shorter than me so about five feet. Dark skinned, Latino possibly African American. Redskins windbreaker.

"What's your name sweet thing?" The second man asked, his words slurred dramatically.

"Cricket," I answered without batting an eye.

"What's yours?" I asked.

A name was always better than a description and the Redskins fan seemed just drunk enough to tell me. He opened his mouth to answer when his friend stopped him with a hand on his arm.

"What kind of name is Cricket?" The beefy guy asked while taking a step closer.

"Mine," I hissed through my teeth.

"You want to have some fun with us?" He asked pleasantly.

I knew what he meant by "fun" and I knew it wasn't really a question. I stood up straighter, determined that neither one of them would be having fun with me tonight. Knee in the crotch. Kick to a knee. Upward thrust into a nose. Elbow in the stomach. A fist to the face. All good ways to buy myself some run time. They wouldn't be able to catch me. They were too smashed to put up much of a chase.

"Take a fucking hike!" I snapped.

"Such language," Redskin fan slurred again.

"Do you wanna have some fun with us _now?_" The beefy ringleader asked pulling out a knife.

My eyes locked on the blade.

_Fuck!_ I screamed internally. I could put up a good fight. The question was, was it a good idea now that the perv was armed? No. Probably not. But then… what did I really have to lose, besides my life which wasn't worth much to begin with…

I still had my bag. It was heavy. A well aimed swing would have the knife knocked out of his hand. I gripped the strap. If I took the bag off first he would know what I was up to, but this, simply holding it tighter was nothing he'd notice drunk as he was.

Both men took a step closer and then… Boom. There it was. The light. Brilliant and blinding, and my eyes reflexively glued themselves to the ground. I tried to force my eyes up to the threat before me, but they were _so_ bright. My eyes watered.

The guy in the windbreaker chuckled. "Awww… She's gonna cry."

The other guy moved to quickly for my blurred vision to follow, but I knew when I felt his hand in my hair pulling my head back while the fist clutching the knife struck me in the jaw, and moved to my throat. Through the pain and tears I heard him growl in my ear, "Now your gonna behave for us, aren't you?"

I couldn't disagree with the cold blade tickling my throat so instead I said nothing. He shoved me back with his fisted knife and tugged me back with his tangled hand until I collided with the wall of a building.

"Very good…" He said leaning into me. I could feel his excitement through his pants.

_Think, Cricket, think! Get yourself out of this, you stupid bitch! Survive!_

The hand that had been in my hair moved to unbutton and unzip pants, both mine and his. It continued to travel, under my shirt, into my bra, and as he bean to rub me he moaned into my ear with his pleasure. My pleasure was nonexistent. My skin felt like it was about to crawl away. I wanted this to end, I wanted to think of a way out of this, but I couldn't force my brain to think of anything other than his knife so close to my throat, his groin rubbing against mine, his hand on my skin that was now traveling down my stomach back to my pants…

Something hard and big, hit both me and him at the same time. I fell sideways, alone, to the ground. My head hit the pavement, but I managed to raise it at the sound of a man screaming. I raised my head to see a third man, only he was wielding the knife now, and there was a pool of blood coming from the center of the body of the prick who had tried to rape me. It took me a second to understand why he was bleeding then when I did my mouth dropped open. His… _manhood_ had been removed. The stranger dropped the knife to the ground bent down. I couldn't see it, but I could hear it. A crack as a neck snapped.

The stranger straightened and looked around. He didn't even look at me although it was clear he was looking for something. I knew what he was looking for and I looked too. The second drunk. He wasn't hard to find. Shock had him paralyzed in place. He snapped out of it as my rescuer stepped in his direction. He turned and tried to run but the stranger was there in front of him… I looked over to the corpse where the stranger had been standing a second ago. How the hell did he go from there to-- A second crack called my attention away from the mess and I turned my head back just in time to see the second drunk's body falling to the ground.

My blood was dripping down the side of my face from where my head struck the ground and as the adrenaline began to wear off I became aware of just how much it actually hurt. My vision suddenly started swimming, and as he stepped toward me, my sight faded altogether.


	2. Bacon, Eggs, and Nahuel

**Disclaimer:**

**This world and most of the characters belong to Stephanie Meyers. My main character Cricket, is inspired by Tara Bray Smith's character Nix from her novel Betwixt.**

**If you've read Betwixt, know this: Cricket is not now, nor will she ever be a fairy. Fairies are fine, but vampires kick ass.**

* * *

When I came to, I knew I'd been moved. For one thing, without even opening my eyes, I knew I was lying in a bed. I could feel the soft mattress beneath me, the pillow under my head, and the blankets over me. For another thing, I could hear voices, and although the words were muffled, they didn't sound happy. I could also hear the sound of rain pounding on a window.

I kept my eyes closed, partially afraid that the light would make the throbbing in my head worse and partially afraid that I was not alone in the room. I concentrated on the angry voices trying to make out the words, but the words didn't get any clearer. I did figure out this much: The voices were from somewhere below me.

I didn't like this. Lying in a strange place, listening to an argument that in all likelihood was about me. I especially didn't like not know how I got here… Who brought me here.

_Think Cricket, _I told myself, _What do you remember?_

Walking, lots of walking. Welcome to Port Angeles. Two drunks trying to rape me. A murderous rescuer. Dead bodies. Blood. Blackness.

A man's voice was moving closer to me.

"Well, we might as well ask. She just woke up. I can hear her."

What did he mean he could hear me? I hadn't made any noise. Maybe they weren't talking about me after all. I heard a door swing open. I opened my eyes and sat up.

I gasped as I saw the four people entering the room.

The first man through the door had a kind smile and an incomparable face, the kind of face an angel might have, with a halo of golden hair. Incomparable may have been the wrong word to use because the pale teen with the frowning face was just as beautiful. His reddish brown hair gleamed above his handsomely angled face. Behind him was another, just as pale, maybe even more beautiful if possible, but this one was a female, with long blond hair and a body any swimsuit model would sell her soul for. Just behind her, slowest to enter the room was another young man, but this one wasn't pale. He had beautiful dark brown skin, with hair pulled back into a short tight braid, and light brown eyes that seemed too old for the face they were in.

I knew him immediately as my rescuer and I felt a rush of gratitude. Then the gratitude faded into fear. He killed two people. Not that the bastards didn't have it coming but still… There was the question of _how_? How did he get from one to the other so fast?

"How are you feeling?" The blonde man asked me in a voice like music.

"Fine," I answered. It wasn't really a lie. I was alive. In my book being alive was fine. I didn't want to admit to how my head hurt or how confused I was.

"My name is Carlisle Cullen, this is my son Edward, my daughter Rosalie, and their cousin, Nahuel." Carlisle gestured to each person in turn.

"Where am I?"

"Our house, just outside of Forks. Nahuel brought you here last night. What do you remember?"

"Everything," I said. My eyes flicked to Nahuel, slightly accusing, and then away from the intensity of his gaze.

"You hit your head pretty hard, but you didn't need stitches. Why don't you tell me what you remember? I want to make sure you don't have a concussion…" Carlisle said.

His tone conveyed concern, but my gut told me he was fishing.

"I was in Port Angeles when two drunks attacked me. Your boy… Nahuel, is it? Nahuel…" I hesitated. What if he didn't tell them what he did? Did I really want to get him in trouble? He did save my life, didn't I owe him? "…well, he stopped them." Stopped them? That was putting it mildly. He killed them with more ease than any human should be able to take one life never mind two.

The one named Edward was staring at me, more intensely than Nahuel was, which was saying something. It made me more uncomfortable than I was already. I glanced down and realized for the first time my bag was gone. Panic began to rise. My things were gone.

"Where's my stuff?" I asked abruptly.

"I'm sorry?" Carlisle asked.

"My stuff! My bag! My guitar! Where the hell are they?" I looked from him to Nahuel. "Tell me you grabbed them!"

"I grabbed them." He answered quietly in a slightly accented English.

I don't care what Angelface says, I find it hard to believe, he's a cousin.

"Where?" I asked again.

"Under the bed," Nahuel answered and gestured.

Without taking my eyes off him, I bent down and felt around under the bed. I felt the strap of my bag and I yanked it out and set it beside me. Then I reached back under and felt around until I found the handle of the guitar case. I had to look down to pull this out as it didn't want to come out as easily as the other had. Once I was sure it was all there I relaxed a little and looked back up.

"Thanks," I said to him. I hoped he knew I was thanking him for more than just my belongings.

"You're very welcome," He answered.

There was an awkward silence.

I tried to break it with a not too subtle hint.

"Look, I'm grateful for what you've done for me, but I'll just be on my way now." I stood up.

Nobody moved out of my way. They all exchanged looks. Suspicion rose in me like a venomous snake.

"You must be hungry, at least stay for breakfast." Carlisle said.

As if on cue another beautiful pale girl skipped into the room. This one was short and skinny with spiky black hair and a big smile. In her hands was a tray of food. Blueberry pancakes drowning in syrup, scrambled eggs, a couple slices of bacon, and a tall glass of milk. The smell made my stomach growl and reminded me of just how long it's been since I ate a decent meal.

"Esme asked me to bring this up for you," She said offering the tray.

I took it from her and sat back down. It wouldn't kill me to eat. Unless it was poisoned. Why the hell did I have that thought? I shook my head at myself. Edward snorted. I glanced up and frown had turned into a smirk.

"So, has anyone asked you the obvious question yet?" The new girl asked brightly.

"The obvious question?" I repeated through a mouthful of pancake.

"Your name. What's your name?"

"Oh! No, no one's asked me that yet," I answered. "Cricket, my name's Cricket."

It worked well enough for what she asked. I've been Cricket for four years. It's who I am now, and I am not going to hang around long enough for her to find out about who I was.

"Cricket? That's cute," she replied.

"What's your real name?" Edward asked, speaking for the first time. His voice was like liquid velvet.

How did he guess that wasn't my real name? I suppose its not that big a leap. Not many people are named after insects. But it's not any of his business what my old name is.

"Cricket." I said very deliberately.

Edward frowned at me and I frowned back. What's it to him anyway?

The dark haired girl cleared her throat to reclaim my attention. "My name's Alice. Will you be here in town for long?"

Before I could answer the question, her face got this vague look. I'd seen that same expression on potheads and heroin addicts… Was she on something?

Edward chuckled.

"I'm just here for the summer. I'm like a bird… I fly south for the winter." As I spoke Alice's eyes came back into focus.

She frowned at me. So did Edward. And Nahuel.

Carlisle glanced at Alice and Edward and I could have sworn I saw a flicker of confusion on his face but then it was gone.

Rosalie sighed theatrically and left the room so gracefully she practically glided across the floor.

"Carlisle, we should talk," Edward said and left too.

"Cricket," Carlisle spoke warmly, "there's more where that came from --" he gestured to the plate on my lap "-- if you want more just ask."

He moved just the same as the two who left before him. Graceful.

Alice smiled and turned to leave but paused at the door.

"Coming Nahuel?" She asked.

"In a minute," he answered not taking his eyes off of me.

She nodded a nod he didn't see and slipped out the door.

I found myself alone with him. He saved my life and I was thankful for that. He killed two people and I was afraid of him for that. He just stood there watching me with eyes that knew too much. When he didn't say anything I surveyed my surroundings for the first time.

The bed I was sitting on was king-sized with a huge ornate frame with wrought iron roses. It was centered in the middle of the room with a couch shoved up against the back wall which was made entirely of glass. The view was magnificent, through the rain streaked glass, the forested mountain range was visible in the distance. The walls were covered with rows of shelves that held an immense music collection and shoved into the corner was a sound system that must have cost a small fortune.

"It's my room," Nahuel said, guessing where my mind was at.

I thought about the bed frame again.

"Your room?" I asked.

"Yes… Well, technically it's Edward's room, but he moved out so I moved in."

"Huh… Is Edward gay?" I asked.

I heard a loud booming laugh coming from downstairs.

"Emmett," Nahuel said, "loves to laugh. Why would you think Edward's gay?"

"Well, the bed frame wasn't exactly made for a _straight_ man, was it?"

"Oh!" Nahuel smiled. "The bed was for his wife, Bella. But they got there own place after they got married…"

"Married? He's what… seventeen?" If that.

"Edward looks good for his age." Nahuel smiled and then added in a voice that was almost sad, "Besides, Bella and Edward were made for each other."

I stayed quiet and looked at my nearly empty plate. Something about Edward and Bella made him sad, but I wasn't going to push. It was none of my business. Besides what if he didn't like my nosiness and flew off the handle and killed me too? I jerked my head up in panic suddenly afraid to have my eyes away from him, but he was still standing there. As I looked at his face, I found myself regretting that thought. He wasn't going to hurt me.

"You saw more than you let on." It wasn't a question.

"Yes," I whispered.

"Are you afraid of me?" Nahuel asked.

I stared into his eyes and was surprised to see them looking unexpectedly vulnerable.

"I should be. I watched you 86 two guys, one of which you maimed beforehand, and the other you… you… practically _flew_ to his side." Was I afraid of him? "No. No, Nahuel, I'm not afraid of you." Not anymore. Why was that?

"You don't have to be," he told me.

I couldn't put my finger on it, but something about the tone of his voice made me think he was promising me something.

"So where did you get the name, Cricket?" He asked after a polite silence.

"A friend came up with it. He said I reminded him of a cricket because my voice made any night beautiful." I frowned at the memory. "He didn't have many beautiful nights… the least I could do was sing for him…" I shook my head and redirected the conversation to him. "Where did you get a name like Nahuel?"

"My aunt Huilen named me after a jungle cat." He answered.

"Where is she?" I asked curiously.

"Oh, back in Brazil I imagine."

Brazil? That explains the accent.

"You're not really a cousin are you?"

"Sure I am. Just not the way you think. Can I hear you sing?" He asked.

I smiled a little. He was doing the same thing I had just done. Redirecting the conversation to a safer subject. He didn't want to talk about his family.

"Maybe later," I said with a smile.

Nahuel didn't return the smile. "Can I ask you a question?" He didn't wait for an answer. "What were you doing last night? Don't you know midnight strolls are dangerous?"

"It wasn't a midnight stroll!" I snapped defensively. "I got sick of Seattle is all."

That distracted him. "You walked from Seattle to Port Angeles?"

"So what if I did?"

"That's a long walk for a hu--" He stopped short looking shocked at whatever he was about to say.

"For a huge…?" I prodded, wondering if their was an insult in my very near future.

"For a huge--" He stopped again like he was searching for the right word.

"Nahuel! Can you come down here?" An unfamiliar voice carried up the stairs.

For Christ's sake. How many people lived here?

"Coming!" He called back.

Oddly enough he looked relieved. He strode out of the room without a backward glance. What? He decided he didn't want to insult me to my face?


	3. Rain Delay

**Disclaimer:**

**This world and most of the characters belong to Stephanie Meyers. My main character Cricket, is inspired by Tara Bray Smith's character Nix from her novel Betwixt.**

**I'm writing a fairy power into a vampire story for my own amusement. Your welcome.**

* * *

I need to get out of here, but first things first. I need to clean up and as long as I'm already imposing…

I chugged the last of my milk and put the glass back on the tray and stepped out into the hall. I wandered slowly to the stairs pausing to check out the odd painting here and there. As I climbed downwards and found myself in another hall I couldn't help but notice the size of the house, the work that was put into it, the things inside it… Whoever these people were, they were rich. Ah, the irony.

The next flight of stairs led me to a big pale open room with a glistening grand piano sitting on a platform. I eyed the beautiful instrument appreciatively for a second before turning my eyes to the couch. Edward sat there with his arm around a beautiful young woman with dark brown hair. She must be Bella. Looks like in this family beauty is what counts the most. Next to Bella sat another pale beauty, but this one was _huge_. He looked up at me and grinned at me.

"How are you feeling?" He asked.

"Fine… Not to be rude but how many people make up your family?" I asked.

They seemed to keep crawling out of the woodwork.

The big guy chuckled before answering. "Ten… We like to keep our numbers even."

Then he winked. I felt like I was missing a joke but I couldn't find the punch line.

"Cricket?" Bella asked with a voice sweeter than a church bell.

I switched my gaze to her.

"Do you need help with something?"

"Kitchen?" I asked.

She pointed.

When I walked into the kitchen I was a little surprised. Everything was shining as if it had never been used but another serving tray loaded with pancakes, eggs, and bacon sat on the counter top as a contradiction. Carlisle was in there, along with Nahuel and two more new faces. A woman with caramel colored hair stood by the sink and a gorgeous child with bronze ringlets sat at the kitchen island playing with her food. They all looked at me and smiled when I walked in, but it was the child my eyes lingered on. Her resemblance to the couple on the couch was unmistakable, with the exception of her eyes. In fact, now that I thought about it, everyone here except me, the little girl, and Nahuel had gold eyes.

"Here, let me take that," The woman said, stepping forward to claim my tray.

"Cricket, this is my wife, Esme," Carlisle introduced.

Oh. The cook. "The pancakes were excellent." And they were. "Thank you so much."

"Your welcome, dear," Esme answered smiling over her shoulder at me.

"I hate to ask for a favor, when you've already helped me so much…"

"What do you need?" Carlisle asked.

"A shower? And I'd like to run my clothes through a washer and drier?"

"Of course. Nessie?"

The little girl looked up.

"If your done, why don't you show Cricket where she can clean up?"

"Okay," Nessie answered happily, pushing her food away.

"Nessie? Please keep your thoughts to yourself…" Carlisle raised an eyebrow at her.

She rolled her big brown eyes at him and leapt from the stool to the floor. She reached out her little hand, took one of mine and tugged. I smiled at her impatience, then frowned as I noticed how hot her skin was. Was she sick? She didn't look sick, she looked beautiful but no surprise there I suppose.

"So can you really sing and play the guitar?" Nessie asked brightly.

"Yes," I said laughing. "News travels fast I guess."

"Daddy plays the piano, but he plays classical. Could I hear you play?" She asked.

"Maybe later." I gave her the same answer that I gave Nahuel when he asked.

Nessie stopped and turned to look up at me. "_Please_?"

Without any reason other than I was caught up in her hopeful brown eyes and her ethereal smile, I found myself agreeing. "Tell you what. After I get cleaned up, I'll play… It'll give me something do while I wait for my clothes to get clean."

Her smile widened and she pulled me forward again.

I spent the time trying to figure out how old she was… Three? Four? I didn't know much about children, but still… Was it normal for toddlers to talk in full sentences with perfect articulation? Maybe she's in one of those thousand dollar tuition preschools where they teach materials most high school students don't see. Not that I'd know much about high school.

"Here, this is Aunt Alice's bathroom." Nessie said beaming up at me. "There are towels under the sink."

I was surprised. I hadn't been paying attention to where she was leading me.

"Thanks… Nessie."

Once she was gone I breathed a sigh of relief.

Something very strange was going on with this family. None of them looked alike, but at the same time they all looked alike. First, there was Nahuel. He seemed like a quiet old soul except for the fact that he bumped off two people in the middle of the street. What the hell was he doing in Port Angeles anyway? Then there was this family. Alice the anorexic pothead. Edward frowning one minute and laughing the next at seemingly nothing. Carlisle fishing for answers. Rosalie… Why did she even come up to see me if she wasn't going to say anything? And the big guy… Why the wink? And the kid? And Esme… She seemed the most normal of all which only added to everybody else's creepy factor. This place feels like Beverly Hills version of Stepford.

Yeah, I'm hauling ass as soon as possible.

I climbed in to the warm water and closed my eyes letting the spray wash away the suspicion. I shouldn't be suspicious after all. They helped me when I needed help and I was never going to see them again after today. They have every right to be freaks and its none of my business.

"There is a house in New Orleans they call the rising sun," I sang the familiar lyrics softly to myself to take my mind off of my strange but gracious hosts. "And it's been the ruin of many a poor girl and me, oh God, I'm one."

My hair fully saturated I paused to grab shampoo. My eyes bulged slightly as I realized there were like fifty different hair care products. How many ways are there to wash hair? I read the bottles carefully not wanting to be the idiot who puts neon orange dye in her hair by mistake. I settled on a blue bottle that smelled slightly of vanilla that the label said was for longer hair.

"My mother was a tailor, she sewed my new blue jeans," I sang the next line as I worked up a decent lather. "My father was a gamblin' man, Lord, down in New Orleans."

A light knock on the door gave me pause.

"Cricket?" I recognized Alice's voice.

"Yeah?" I called.

"Esme sent me up to gather your laundry. Do you mind?"

I hesitated. "Go ahead."

The door opened and I added, "Thanks," to be polite.

It wasn't until after the door closed that I realized a new problem. My clean clothes were still in my bag. My bag was still in Nahuel's room. Shit. I suppose I'll have to wrap a towel around me and make a run for it. Then I remember ten people lived here… I'd have to make it a fast run.

I heard a peal of laughter downstairs. At least they were a happy family if a little… unorthodox.

The door opened again.

"Alice?" I asked, annoyed now. Asking to be let it was one thing walking in was another.

"Don't mind me. I'm just double checking that you have clean towels."

I stuck my head out just as the door closed.

My bag. Sitting there by the door. Well that was nice of her… I think. "Now the only thing a gambler needs is a suitcase and a trunk…"

Once I was cleaned up and dressed I grabbed my bag went back to Nahuel's room to gather my guitar. It would be easier to have them downstairs with me. Once my clothes were done I could have them packed and be out the door in seconds. I thought about how trusting these people were. Not at all concerned with a complete stranger wandering through their home. By now they had to have figured out that I lived on the streets… How did they know I wasn't some klepto or ax murder?

When I got to his room I gasped in horrified surprise. The sky outside was so thick with thunderheads it was almost black. The wind was whipping through the trees, making pine needles blur together and leaves reveal their pale undersides. The fat rain drops were now pounding against the glass so hard it sounded like hail.

Washington. Maybe I shouldn't wait for fall. Maybe I should just buy a bus ticket to Cali and worry about money when I get there.

Downstairs Edward eyed my things with speculation as I set them near the door, then his eyes flickered to the window and the weather beyond. Then he returned his gaze to me and raised an eyebrow. _Are you serious?_ He seemed to be saying. I shrugged in response. I hadn't decided yet.

"Cricket?" Carlisle said behind me. I jumped. I didn't hear him come in.

"Yeah?"

"I know you're in a hurry to be on your way, but you should wait until the weather passes."

I opened my mouth to disagree, but I stopped when I heard a nasal beeping sound from the television. Followed by a generically official sounding voice.

"This is the National Weather Service Broadcast System… with a severe thunderstorm warning… with strong winds and possible flash flooding... we recommend that you stay indoors and keep away from windows…"

"It'd be insanity to leave now." Edward voiced his opinion.

I hated to admit it but they were right. I'd have to stay. I shook my head and kicked my shoes off in frustration. That was childish. With a sigh I bent down and straightened my shoes next to my bag. Edward chuckled softly behind me. Man was he starting to get on my nerves.

Over the wind I heard a car engine. I glanced out a window at the driveway. I trembled as panic flooded through me and then I froze with shock. They called the cops on me? If they wanted me gone they should have just said so. I would have bounced without complaint.

"Bella, your father is here," Edward said coming over to the window. He gave me a reassuring smile like he knew what I was thinking. "Looks like Charlie brought Jacob, too."

I suddenly felt calm despite the presence of a cruiser just beyond the window pane.

I heard a new chuckle behind me. "What are we going to tell them about our guest?" A man's voice asked humorously.

I spun about. What a total shock. Pale. Beautiful. Possibly related to a Greek god. Anyone else noticing a pattern here?

"Hello. We haven't met yet." No shit, Sherlock. I'd remember a face like that. "I'm Jasper."

"Hey, Jasper," I said murmured a hello.

Another oddity. Jasper. Carlisle. Edward. Alice. Emmett. Who had names like that these days? I can't comment on the wifey's name because before today I had never heard the name Esme before. But still… Why were they all named like… like… I don't know… yesteryear farm children? Like their parents were more worried about producing enough little helpers who would live passed infanthood than the originality of names.

I shook my head again and turned back to the window. The man climbing out of the drivers side door was not what I expected. No uniform, no badge, no piece… No colorless skin, no impossible beauty, no hair… Well that was an exaggeration of course, he was balding but he still had enough hair left to see the dark curls… He was running through the rain as fast as he could as younger man climbed out of the passenger side door.

The younger man was tall… Taller than Michael Jordan tall. His skin was rich shade of copper and he had crow black hair chopped untidily… Not that I hadn't seen worse haircuts. His face was wide, but the planes sharp, and he came off looking like something a highly skilled craftsman carved out of redwood and then brought to life with a spell. Then he grinned. The grin seemed to bring his face to life shaving ten years off his appearance. He ran through the rain with less urgency than the older man.

They moved into a blind spot but I could still hear the footsteps on the porch soon followed by a frantic knocking.

* * *

**A/N:**

**Cricket was singing "House of the rising Sun" by Credence Clearwater Revival. Its an oldie but goodie and adds a bit of macabre to any situation in my opinion.**


	4. Death Shouldn't Gate Crash

**Disclaimer:**

**This world and most of the characters belong to Stephanie Meyers. My main character Cricket, is inspired by Tara Bray Smith's character Nix from her novel Betwixt.**

**Drop a review if you've read this far into the story...Why not?**

* * *

"Grandpa!" The little girl shrieked.

"There she is!" The older man, Charlie called warmly. "I swear Ness, it's like I'm watching you grow by the minute!" He chuckled bending down to give her a hug. He looked over Nessie's shoulder at Bella, who was smiling her hello, with a disapproving look on his face. "She's too thin, Bella, don't you ever feed her?"

Bella laughed. "She eats just fine dad, better than Jacob in fact. And you've seen how Jake eats…"

Charlie cringed in what I could tell was faux horror.

I pressed myself up against the wall and prayed to suddenly turn invisible. It's not like I don't respect police and what they do, its just someone like me has more than enough reason to be wary of them. Charlie seemed nice enough, but still…

While Charlie chattered at his granddaughter Jacob's eyes landed on me. Surprised flash in his eyes as he spotted me sticking to the wall like a leech, but then he gave me a friendly smile. I tried to return it but even I knew it wasn't convincing so I flicked my gaze to my feet.

"Who are you?" He asked curiously and I forced my eyes off of my feet to meet his. I couldn't force myself to answer. At his question Charlie had stood up and located me. He frowned at me and I flinched in spite of myself. His expression softened and he smiled too. Still I said nothing.

"Charlie, Jacob --" Edward began but Emmett cut him off.

"_This_ is _Cricket_, the homeless girl Nahuel brought home." Emmett laughed obnoxiously. "Apparently, he has a thing for strays."

"Homeless?" Charlie repeated the word like he was confused.

"I prefer the term _lovable vagrant_." I answered shooting a glare at Emmett.

As I looked at Emmett I got the sudden urge to laugh as I figured out who he reminded me of. Lenny from Of Mice and Men. Physically an adult, but mentally a child. A retarded giant who kills bunnies and puppies and women by accident. I bet he likes ketchup… in the book, Lenny liked ketchup.

Edward was chuckling again. I glanced at him. So he thought Emmett's comment was funny, did he? I guess that makes him George. He does seem to frown a lot. I wonder how long until Edward shoots Emmett in the head… Maybe Charlie will lend him his side arm…

Edward stopped laughing and frowned.

"What are you smiling about?" Emmett asked curiously.

"Oh, nothing," I lied.

"Well, its nice to meet you Cricket," Charlie said although I doubted he was telling the truth. Normal society dictates it is rarely nice to meet a vagrant even one who considers herself lovable.

Lighting flashed followed by a crack of thunder so loud the cloud that produced it might as well have been in the room with us.

This strange family settled into the sitting room and into conversation. Charlie and Emmett and Jasper talking baseball, while Carlisle and Edward discussed work… Apparently Carlisle was doctor, which I suppose explained a few things. Esme and Bella were talking about the weather while Jacob played on the floor with Nessie. I manage to get left out of all conversations which was fine with me. I sat down on the floor near the recliner that Charlie had settled into. since the seats were all taken by now, and pretended to watch whatever was on the TV.

"You're not really wearing that are you?" Alice's voice interrupted the other conversations.

It took me a second to realize she was talking to me.

"Yeah…?" I raised an eyebrow.

"Short sleeves over long sleeves? With cargo pants? Its just so… _emo._" She said the word like it was a swear. I laughed at her.

"Leave her alone Alice," Nahuel said reappearing from where ever he had slipped off to.

Alice frowned and sat down with a huff on Jasper's lap.

Nahuel managed to make sitting down cross legged into one smooth eerily sinuous motion and again I pushed away suspicions of what was going on with this peculiar family. It didn't matter. It was none of my business. He shimmied over next to me and smiled a friendly smile. I smiled back but it wasn't as genuine as his. No matter how hard I tried I couldn't make myself forget what he'd done and I couldn't stop myself from wondering why and how he'd done it. I didn't like the way he was now staring at me, either. The intensity of his gaze was unnerving. It was like his eyes were willing mine to stay locked on his which they did. I couldn't move my eyes from him no matter how uncomfortable he was making me.

"Can I ask you a question?" Nahuel asked his voice dropping a little to make it clear he was just talking to me.

"I guess," I said warily, "but I might not answer."

"Fair enough…" He hesitated and then asked, "How long have you been… living like this?"

"Hmm… about four years now…" I answered.

He looked shocked and a little horrified at the thought. "You've been living on the streets for four years?"

"Uh-huh," I said it as nonchalantly as I could, noting with amusement how perturbed my living situation was making him.

"But why?" He asked.

"Sometimes running is better than waiting." I gave him my very best "don't go there," look.

He still looked troubled but he took the hint.

I laughed at him. "Really, Nahuel, its not as bad as you think. I'm well fed, clothed, hygienic, and thanks to the growing number of free clinics I'm up-to-date on all my shots. I sleep with a roof over my head and I can scrounge up part-time jobs wherever I go so its not like I'm completely devoid of funds. I just don't stay in one place long enough to bother getting a permanent residence…" I trailed off a little confused. He isn't my problem and I'm not his problem so why was I explaining this to him? Was it because he seemed genuinely curious or because he seemed so genuinely concerned. And for that matter… Why did he care? Why did I care that he cared?

"Why don't you stay in one place?" He asked.

"I just don't like to wait around is all," I told him again, which wasn't a lie.

"Wait for what?" He asked.

Death. "I don't like to talk about it."

Again he took the hint and I was thankful for that. I wasn't embarrassed about the way I lived my life, if he really wanted detail I'd give him some, but there are some subjects that are really party killers. I can imagine _that_ conversation.

"_So why are you on the run?" Nahuel asks._

"_I see dead people." I answer._

"_Oh cool! Like the Sixth Sense?" He enthuses._

"_Oh no, nothing like that. Specifically I see people who are going to be dead."_

"_Huh?"_

"_Oh yeah, people start to glow like nightlights just before they kick the bucket. I see their lights… it's a useless talent because you don't have the information of how a person dies…"_

"_I'm not sure I understand…"_

"_Like this girl I met in a squat in Atlanta… She started to glow fuzzy at first then brighter… A couple months later she was brutally strangled in an alley for her purse…"_

"_Umm…. Would you excuse me for a moment?…."_

I heard someone suck in a sharp breath and I turned to locate the culprit. Edward was staring at me leaning forward slightly. _Why do you keep staring? _I waned to scream. Have I got "twisted freak" tattooed in small print on my forehead? Carlisle reclaimed Edwards attention but I could tell the guy was still watching me out of the corner of his creepy golden eyes. Seriously… besides cats and hawks who has gold eyes?

Why the hell does he keep staring at me? Something clicked in my brain in that instant, something as impossible as a girl who can see death. Edward laughing and frowning for no reason. There was a reason. He _could_ read minds.

_That's it isn't it?_ I asked silently. _You can read minds._

He nodded without actually looking at me but I knew he was giving me my answer. Shit. Shit, shit, shit… My cover was blown all because I had to wind up in a house with people freakier than me. I'm not sure I didn't prefer being raped by the unwelcoming committee.

"Part-time jobs?" Nahuel asked curiously, attempting to re-capture my attention.

"Oh, I've done a little bit of everything." I explained absently. "Dog walking, fast food… Once I got a job as a street mascot, that sucked. The costume was hot as hell. Mom-and-pop stores are the best because they don't usually do background checks... it's the places that want your Social that are… problematic. I even worked at a chop shop once."

I kept my eyes on Edward as I rattled off a list. Carlisle finally figured something was up. He was glancing between me and Edward. Nahuel was either blissfully ignorant of the tension growing between me and Edward, or he wanted to dissipate it by acting like everything was normal. Everything was not normal.

"A chop shop?" Nahuel asked.

His confusion at the term pulled me away from my glaring contest. I was surprised. I could tell he'd never heard the term before. Then I remembered he came from Brazil. Maybe they didn't have chop shops in Brazil.

"It's a garage, working with cars, you know?" I explained.

"Oh! You're a mechanic?"

I giggled. "Actually, Nahuel, the most I know about cars is how to boost them…" I smiled at the memory of that. It was an adrenaline rich job. Stupid, dangerous, illegal, but a nice rush.

A flash of movement caught my eye. I looked up and over and Charlie was looking at me with a frown. I forgot I was sitting next to a cop. I smiled innocently up at him.

"Not that I would _ever_ boost a car, officer. It's immoral, taking something that doesn't belong to you, not to mention illegal. I mean, what kind of monster would do such a thing?"

Charlie's lips twitched ever so slightly and he returned his attention back to Emmett. I breathed a sigh of relief. Good thing I didn't mention the time I was the corner lookout for a drug dealer.

Before Nahuel could ask anything else of me the power went out. I twitched in surprise and my hand leapt to his. I squeezed his hand and then shocked at myself for the sudden physical contact I jerked my hand away. The storm clouds had blotted out the sun so completely that the room was lit a dusky purple. My eyes took a few minutes to adjust. I located Nahuel's face first, he was looking at me already, and then I counted heads.

"Power's out," Rosalie stated the obvious from the stairs.

I guess she's not too blonde to be observant.

"I'll go find some candles." Bella stated helpfully, breezing out of the room.

But I only half heard Bella. I was redoing my head count in a horrified disbelief. My attention was caught on the fact that in the darkness, not one, not two, but three people had started to glow.

The blonde man, Jasper.

The giant kid playing with the little girl, Jacob.

"It's gonna be a bad one," Charlie stated. "Weatherman says it'll be here for a couple of days before it clears up."

Yeah. Charlie was glowing too.

I heard someone hiss, "No." I didn't need to look this time, to know who said that.

"Charlie," Esme spoke up next. "Maybe you should wait it out here, instead of trying to drive home in this. And you too Jacob. And Cricket. We've got plenty of food and plenty of room."

Yeah, like I'm staying here. No way in hell. Seattle. Should have stayed there. Going back. Fuck the rain. First chance I get I'm gone.

Edward walked over and towered over me. I looked up defiantly into his strained expression. His eyes flicked around the room. He had now earned everybody's full attention. I knew he was debating on how to threaten me without drawing the wrong kind of attention to himself.

"Cricket, I know you are in a hurry, but you will stay. You have no place better to go so there really is no need to rush." I narrowed my eyes at him. "There is no sense in getting hurt." And there it was.

_You think you can keep me here?_ I asked silently, incredulously, acknowledging his veiled threat. _Nice try, but you don't scare me, and if you put a hand on me I'll call 911._ I threw a very pointed look at Charlie who was watching with interest.

I played my part. "Are you kidding? Going out in this weather? Wouldn't dream of it."

He sat down next to Nahuel. Keeping an eye on me no doubt. He'd have to do better than that.

I became very aware of the tension going through the room right now. They were different not stupid. His family knew something was wrong. I wonder if he had the balls to tell them himself that they had to start making funerary arrangements or if he was planning on forcing me to do it. Didn't matter either way. I wouldn't be here to watch them figure it out.

Bella walked back in with candles and began lighting them.

"It took me a moment to find them," she laughed, "we haven't needed them before."

With that the tension broke and conversation resumed. Well most of the tension. I looked back at Edward. Nahuel was glaring angrily at him. His lips moved but now sound came out that I could hear. Edward mouthed something back to Nahuel who very clearly didn't like what was being mouthed. I shivered and concentrated on staring at the carpet.


	5. Fuller, Fangs, Freaky Shit

**Disclaimer:**

**This world and most of the characters belong to Stephanie Meyers. My main character Cricket, is inspired by Tara Bray Smith's character Nix from her novel Betwixt.**

* * *

Giving them the slip was harder than I thought it would be, but I did it. That Edward wouldn't leave me alone all afternoon and that strange girl, Alice, who practically wrestled me into neon pink silk pajamas, seemed to have a knack for popping up just when I was about to make my getaway. I wasn't sure how much Edward had told her or if he would wait for me to fall asleep before talking but I didn't allow myself to care.

I couldn't get rid of Nahuel either but I was surprised to find I didn't mind him as much. He was sweet, easy to talk to, and full of questions. He seemed to figure out pretty quickly which types of questions I wouldn't answer and he kept the conversation away from those. I didn't mind his staring anymore either. I finally put it together. Emmett's comment about Nahuel having a thing for strays plus the constant stream of questions multiplied by the number of times his eyes flicked down the length of my body when he thought I wasn't looking equals: Nahuel _likes_ me.

Did I like him back? I didn't allow myself to answer that question. It didn't matter. Even if I did I could never have him. For starters I am to damn stubborn to ever allow myself to become a cliché girl meets boy rags to riches Cinderella story. Secondly, he might not be glowing now, but sooner or later everyone dies. I know this but I don't need to watch it unfold if I don't want to… Talk about heartache. Knowing someone you love is going to die and not being able to do anything about it.

So in order to get out I needed to find away around Edward. Meditation. I lay down in those nightmarish pjs and cleared my head of all thought. I made sure to position my body in a way that would be uncomfortable to sleep so I wouldn't go under by accident. When I finally moved I moved fast. I grabbed a set of my clothes in my arm and stuffed them under my shirt to keep them dry and ran, leaving my stuff behind. My bag. My money. My guitar. I would really miss my guitar.

I was halfway across the lawn when Alice spotted me. But thanks for small favors Charlie had gotten up, maybe to get a midnight snack or maybe to take a piss, and what could she say when he asked what she was doing up? "_I'm trying to hold that homeless chick hostage because she can see people who are about to die…"_ The time it took her to come up with a convincing lie I was out in the trees and out of sight. I stripped and redressed as I walked through the woods thanking the heavy canopy above for keeping me from the worst of the rain.

I got to the highway and there was more good luck. An overworked truck driver in his rig was trying to brave the storm and make it to Seattle. He was kindhearted enough to make an exception on the no hitchhikers rule and allowed the bedraggled girl to ride with him. Another bonus: he didn't try to feel me up. He was normal. A picture of his wife and daughter on the dashboard. He asked me what the hell I was thinking wandering around in this weather. I worked up the fake tears said my mother lived in Seattle and was in the hospital and I was trying to make it home but the fates conspired against me yada yada yada…

It was a good lie. He dropped me off at the hospital.

I didn't bother heading to the squat where I stayed last time. I knew the schedule. They had probably moved on by now. Its like that a lot. They can stay in one area for a few weeks if they are careful but eventually they have to move or run the risk of getting raided.

Instead I sought out Fuller Hadley. Fuller was a dealer, and he wasn't about to lose track of potential clients. I found him in his usual haunt, sitting on a stoop of a building reading a newspaper. I walked right up to him not caring who saw.

His eyes flicked up and he appraised me silently. I waited. He folded the newspaper slowly and nodded to a space beside him. I sat down.

"You look like hell, Crick." He smirked at me. He and I weren't exactly best buds. I imagine he got satisfaction seeing I wasn't doing very well at the moment.

I eyed him too and my eyes widened with surprise as I caught the bulge in his windbreaker.

"Since when do you pack heat?" I asked, eyebrow raised.

"Dangerous times," He murmured shrugging.

"Where'd Ricky move to?" I asked jumping right to the point.

He snorted. "How the fuck should I know?"

I snorted too. "Don't bullshit me. I know your selling to Joanie and Skid."

"You know, somehow I doubt Skid is his real name?" He grinned.

I rolled my eyes.

"What do you care anyway, Crick? Last I heard, you were headin' up north."

"I came back after a run in with the Manson family. Now where'd Ricky move to?"

He smirked at me again the smartass.

"Damn it, Fuller, the location!"

"Twenty bucks and I'll sing it for you, babe." He held out a hand expectantly.

The no good, inbred, drug dealing, asinine, mother fucking hustler! How in the hell was it that he, of all people, wasn't glowing? How many people in this city must want him dead and what, none of them have the stones to attempt it? Has the world gone insane? Fuller has a long and inglorious future ahead of him, but those three relatively nice, if slightly freakish, people back in Forks are all going to die?

Fuller cleared his throat. "I don't have all fucking day. Pay up or take a walk."

Twenty bucks was all I had. I pulled it out of my sock, and held where he could see it but didn't offer to hand it to him.

"Where?" I asked.

He grinned victoriously and told me. I regretfully gave the twenty to him when all I really wanted to do was punch the scumbag in the face. I was now officially dirt poor.

* * *

I pulled my hair forward around my face and put my sweatshirt hood up. I cast my eyes downward and pocketed my hands. The universal look of "stay away". Nobody really took notice of me as I entered the warehouse which is exactly as I wanted it. I recognized most of the faces but Ricky's was the one I wanted and it was the one I couldn't find. I suppose I wasn't putting a lot of effort into the search though. Here there were plenty of lights and I hated looking at their faces.

I sat down against a wall and closed my eyes for a second…

_I was staring into the pair of warm brown eyes that were staring into mine. His eyes were so hypnotizing… the depth of their sincerity, the brightness of their intelligence, and yet, there was a sad kind of glimmering hope in them. Like an orphan watching strangers sign the adoption papers… They held the promise of loneliness' end._

_Nahuel._

_His lips sprang to life, arching smoothly into a smile, breaking the trance._

"_Where am I?" I asked._

"_With me," He whispered._

"_Where are we?" I repeated._

_He didn't answer. He just smiled again. Smiled and stared._

_I had the oddest urge. His skin just looked so soft… I longed to reach out and put my hand on his cheek, feel the softness for myself. What was I asking him? Did it matter?_

_I smiled back and his smile grew wider to reveal his glistening teeth. I froze. Not just teeth. __**Fangs.**__ Fangs?_

A pressure on my shoulder startled me awake and I lurched upright.

"Fucking fangs?!" I yelped slightly incoherent.

"Fangs?" A raspy male voice repeated.

My eyes snapped into focus.

I'd recognize those hideous dreadlocks anywhere.

"Ricky," I breathed, relaxing back against the wall.

"Fuck, Cricket, you're a mess." Ricky said sitting down beside me.

"So I've been told." I muttered. Like it really mattered that I was a mess. _Everybody_ here was a mess.

"Did someone steal your shit?" He asked a little angrily.

It took me a second to figure out what he meant.

"No. I had to leave it behind."

He was silent for a moment.

"How'd you find us?"

"Fuller."

He snorted but with what emotion I couldn't tell. "Lowlife."

"I agree with you there, but he doesn't miss a trick."

"He's at least missed one." Ricky looked a little smug at this.

I lifted an eyebrow. Ricky was a bragger. Minimum encouragement barely necessary.

"He's been asking around about Dante's. It seems Fuller was left out of the loop this time around."

I snorted. "Dante's" was an annual underground rave. I had heard of it when I first arrived in Seattle, but seeing as this was my first time in this area I had never had the pleasure of attending. I had heard rumors though. Although drugs were a big part of the rave scene Dante's was _supposedly_ clean. Drug dealers weren't on the list, not that they didn't occasionally find away in. The lack of drug dealers at the party meant little though, people still brought there own if they wanted to.

"Good thing too." I finally responded. "Did you know Fuller bought a piece?"

He snorted this time. "Good. Maybe the little shit'll shoot himself by accident and stop fucking up peoples lives…"

"Maybe…"

We sat in silence for a moment with our own thoughts. Ricky's good like that. He doesn't ask unnecessary questions. He knows better. Nor does he try fill up the silence with the "what's happening now" gossip. It doesn't pay to be a snitch.

"Ricky…" I called his attention back to the present, morbid curiosity getting the best of me.

"What?"

"Whatever happened to that goth… Jon?"

"Batman?"

I laughed. Jon had shaved his head bald and tattooed a huge bat on his scalp.

"Yeah, that's the one."

"He bounced after you did… Freaky shit though…"

"Why is that?"

"Well…" Ricky hesitated and then spoke quietly, "Joanie came back to base higher than a kite the night of the day he left…"

"And?"

"She said she was over on Lexus and Main… She said she saw the po-po there with a bag and tag team, if you know what I mean…"

My stomach plummeted about ten feet down.

"Don't get me wrong, she had enough of that poison in her system to make her think she could walk on water…"

"But?" I asked.

Ricky's darted around then he leaned in and whispered, "She was spoutin' off about how she caught a look at the stiff's face before they zipped 'im up… said it was Jon. Said she heard a cop talking to the M.E. about exsanguination… Do you know what it _means_? Basically to bleed to death."

"So Jon bled to death?" I whispered back.

"Well, that's sort of the freaky shit isn't it? My curiosity peaked, I circled back through the area real casual like to see if there could be any stock to her story… Well, one would think that bloodstains would be hard to get off the pavement, wouldn't you? But I'll be damned there wasn't a mark."

"You think she made it up? Hallucinated it maybe?"

"She was certainly high enough but… Well, where the fuck does someone like _Joanie_ learn a word like _exsanguination?_"

He shook his head and receded back into silence.

Exsanguination. Ricky certainly had a point. Where would Joanie pick up that word. On a good day she was lucky if her words contained at least two syllables.

And Jon. What had happened to him? Don't get me wrong, I knew he didn't have much longer, that's why I left. He was a good guy all things considered. Sure he stole, who the fuck living this life didn't? But most of that money was sent home to his son. I didn't want to watch a good guy die so I ran like the coward I am. But was it believable that Joanie saw him being taken away after being… _exsanguinated_? No.

But then again, who am I to say what's believable. I see death. Edward Cullen reads minds. I just had a dream about--

"Narc!" Someone shouted.

Ricky and I leapt to our feet ready to flee the scene with the rest of the vagrants who were scrambling about. But before we could bail I caught sight of the "narc" in question.

"False alarm!" I shouted at the top of my lungs. "False alarm! He's not a narc!"

The mad dash stopped and I now had more attention on me than I would have liked.

I narrowed my eyes.

Nahuel glanced around a little confusedly and shrugged. Then he stalked slowly toward me, a soft smile on his face, a smile that didn't reach his eyes. How the fuck did he find me?

"Cricket," he said.

"Nahuel," I snapped.

"You know him?" Ricky interfered.

I glanced at him. He was not looking happy.

"He isn't a narc, he's just an idiot." I told Ricky and returned my gaze to Nahuel. "How'd you find me and what do you want?"

"I tracked you. You left an easy trail. As far as what I want, I think you know."

Yes. I suppose I did know. Edward blabbed as I knew he would. He knew that three of his family were doomed to die. I knew that they wanted me to fix it. There would be no fixing it. It was what it was.

"They wanted to drag you back. I told them I could convince you to come with me."

I snorted. "Well, that was a stupid thing to tell them wasn't it?"

Ricky cleared his throat. "As interesting as this is… You broke the rules, Cricket."

"What?"

"You were followed. I'm gonna have to ask you to leave."

"What!" I turned my attention back to Nahuel. "You got me kicked out?!"

"I won't apologize. Its more incentive for you to come with me."

"I'm not going anywhere with you!"

He stared at me quietly measuring my expression. Then he smirked as a thought occurred to him.

"Fine," he said softly, "I'll just go with you."

What did he mean by that? "What does that mean?"

"Well, I just got you kicked out of your, um…" his eyes flicked around the unit as he searched for a word, "…home. I am certainly not going to let you wander the streets alone, you could get hurt."

"You are not coming anywhere with me. I gave you the slip once I can do it again."

"Ah, but I found you once I can do it again. And again. And again."

"I don't need you, I can handle myself."

"You needed me the other night, or was that your idea of handling yourself?"

I flinched at the memory but took a step toward him.

"You listen here--" I began but he cut me off.

"No, you listen. You can come with me and help us figure this thing out, in which case you will be free to go, or you can continue doing… well, whatever it is you do, and I will join you in your, um, ventures…"

I wanted to hit him. Hard. He was being cocky and I didn't like it. Where was the sweet, curious, foreigner who just wanted to get to know me? The worst part was there was nothing but smug certainty on his face. He wasn't challenging me, it was like there was no challenge. He meant what he said. He wasn't leaving me alone unless I went with him. I wasn't going with him.

A plan started formulating in my brain. It was incomplete but pleasing enough. I let a smile drift over my face and I grinned at Nahuel. His smirk slid off and he stared at me suspiciously. So, I might not be able to ditch him. But I sure is hell can make him regret his decision to stick to me.

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**A/N:**

**_Is it really possibe to fool Alice and Edward with meditation? I dont know but i needed Cricket to escpae for the progression of the story. Don't hate._**


	6. Diners and Death Sentences

**Disclaimer:**

**I've said it before.**

**Most Characters and this world belong to the brilliant Stephanie Meyers. **

**Cricket is inspired by Tara Bray Smith's _Betwixt_, as are Dante's rave and Fuller.**

**

* * *

**"C'mon," I muttered to Nahuel, giving his shirt sleeve a tug as I passed him.

He followed me obediently to the threshold where I stopped and turned to look at him.

"Please tell me you at least had the sense to bring my things…" My voice trailed off at the look on his face. Of course not. "Of course not." I echoed my thought out loud.

"Sorry." He said.

I turned and looked out at the wet streets, trying to plan out my next move.

"So, where are we going?" He asked curiously.

"I haven't decided yet…"

"Might I make a suggestion?"

"Mmm?"

"The Cullen manor has…"

I laughed. "Ha! Your funny, but there's not a chance in hell."

"Might I make a second suggestion?"

"Free country," I murmured.

"Are you hungry?"

"No." I told him. It was a lie and my stomach sold me out with a loud rumble.

He smiled at me. "Somebody must have opened their restaurant today. The storm is not nearly as bad here as up North. We'll find somewhere."

I had to admit he was right. The rain was fairly light here, and for the moment it was nonexistent. So I followed him on his quest for a restaurant. I wondered what he was going to do about the bill. I wasn't above the old dine-and-dash routine but something told me he wouldn't be so into the concept. I sure as hell hoped he had cash on him because my money was back at _their_ house, although if it was on me, I suppose I would be spending it to get myself the fuck out of this state.

We traveled in silence and, after a few minutes, I dropped back a couple of steps so I could get a look at him in action. Nahuel's feet were swift and utterly silent, and every step they took were long and sinuous and smooth. My eyes traveled further up to his torso. I don't even think he was aware of it, but I was almost sure his shoulders were held forward as opposed to back. He reminded me of a documentary on AnimalPlanet I had watched with my grandfather once upon a time… The walk was strangely predatory. He was a man with a mission…

_A man on a hunt. _

I couldn't stop myself from thinking that though I didn't particularly like the thought. I picked up the pace until I had fallen beside him again. He glanced at me with those beautiful eyes and shot me a quick grin.

_No fangs,_ I noted as he flashed his pearly whites. _No fangs? Of course there aren't any fangs. Pull it together Cricket, your losing it._

"What about here?" He asked coming to a stop and holding open a door for me.

The sign on the door said J.R's Diner.

I shrugged and walked in.

The diner was fairly empty. There was an old man sipping tomato soup at the counter and a woman not to much older than me picked at a cheese omelet in a booth. The bored waitress leapt to her feet and smiled too excitedly when she saw us. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes and headed to a secluded back table.

Once we had seated ourselves she came over and handed us our menus.

"Hi, my name is Audrey, I'll be your waitress. Can I start you off with something to drink?"

"Ice tea?" I asked without hesitation.

She nodded and glanced toward Nahuel.

"Make it two," He said smiling at her.

She nodded and smiled back. "Coming right up."

I looked back at Nahuel and he was staring at me, not cruelly, but intensely. I straightened my back and stared back, refusing to let him make me uncomfortable. He raised a surprised eyebrow at my own stare, smiled warmly, but neither action lessened his intensity.

"How does it work?" He asked quietly, opening his menu as Audrey set our drinks down.

I opened my own menu and waited until I heard her footsteps fade away before answering.

"People glow and then they die. That's about it." I scanned the menu and asked a question my own. "What _are_ you guys? I mean, really?"

"I can't tell you."

I snorted. "Thus endeth the personal interview."

He frowned at me from across the table.

"Alright," he said slowly, "It's not that I can't tell you because I could tell you. I just won't. Its against the law for your kind to know the truth. If you knew…" he shook his head and turned his face away from me for a second.

When he looked back his face was pained. I should have let it drop but I didn't. He was the jackass invading my life not the other way around. Maybe if I hurt his feelings enough he'd go back to Forks or Butterknife or Brazil.

"My kind?" Yeah, that phrase didn't escape my notice.

"Human." He said simply.

I flinched. He wasn't human. I'd suspected as much but still… having it confirmed…

"And if I knew the truth?" I pressed on.

"You would be killed for it."

My mind drew a blank at that. How does one respond to hearing something like that?

So I just stared at him. He stared right back.

"Have you decided?"

I jumped. Audrey was back.

"Um… the Bacon Cheeseburger?" Hell, if I wasn't paying for it…

"And how do you want it cooked?"

"Medium Rare." I told her.

She wrinkled her nose. "How anyone can eat it like that…" She still had on her friendly smile so I took no offense.

Instead I laughed and said, "Hey, I'd be happy if you just strapped the cow down and handed me a fork."

Nahuel found something about the statement hysterical. He laughed. Loudly. I intended it to be funny, but it wasn't _that_ funny…

"What are you getting?" I asked to bring him back to reality.

"Oh, um… I'll have what she's having," He said to Audrey.

Audrey nodded and smiled and scribbled on her notepad before leaving us alone again.

And he was staring. Again.

I suddenly felt overwhelmed with sorrow and regret but I tried not to let it translate onto my face. Nahuel was a good… well, he was a good whatever he was, and his family was relatively kind. He saved me and they took me in. As strange and inhuman as they might be they didn't deserve the grief that was coming for them. I knew they wanted me to help, but I knew there was nothing I could do.

"I can't save them, you know," I whispered breaking eye contact and staring down at my hands.

"Charlie, Jacob, and Jasper?" He asked quietly, no doubt trying to confirm what I already knew.

"Yes."

"How do you know you can't save them?" He tried to ask calmly but I could hear the desperation in his voice. "Have you ever tried?"

That question made me furious and I slammed a frustrated fist on the table.

"Have I ever tried?" I shouted. I lowered my voice and leaned forward. "Look, Nahuel, I don't know who you are but this sure as fuck isn't the first time I've seen these lights. Of course I _tried_ but I can never change anything…"

"How long do they have?" The desperation showing through more clearly. "Edward said you can estimate how much time they have by the brightness of the light. How long?"

It was my turn to study his face. I doubted they were his family in the traditional sense but it was clear he loved them like his own. I wondered what it would have been like if I had stayed home, waited for my grandmother to die. Would I have felt better, knowing I had spent her last days by her side? Or would I have felt worse, watching helplessly as the light grew until she all but disappeared, watching as life finally left her and she was lowered into the ground? I wondered if Nahuel thought it would make a difference, knowing when the end was coming. Did he think he could save them if he knew the when? Or was it him trying to prepare himself for their end?

"Would it really help? Knowing?" I asked quietly.

"Yes." He said the word with such a passion I almost believed him.

I gave in a little. "Jacob first. Maybe a month. Jasper a little longer. Half a year at most, probably less, definitely not more."

"Charlie?"

"Longer than either. His light's fuzzy."

"How long?" Nahuel pressed.

I thought about it for a second, trying to estimate. "I'd give him a year…maybe a little longer…"

"Thank you," He whispered quietly.

Audrey set our down and left but suddenly I had no appetite. This topic of discussion was making me nauseous and the smell of the burger had my stomach doing flips.

"Can I ask you something? Does knowing how much time's left help?"

"Yes and no. If this is set in stone, then no it doesn't help. But Alice? She's a psychic. If we know when… maybe she can look ahead and find out how. Maybe they can be saved…"

"Good luck," I whispered sincerely.

He didn't respond.

We both stared downwards at our food in silence.

Our stares didn't go unnoticed.

"Is there something wrong?" The waitress asked looking worried.

I knew she meant the food but I answered anyway.

"Everything," I told her.

I pushed the food away and stood up.

"I meant it Nahuel. I wish you luck. But I can't watch this."

Then I left.

I brushed by the bewildered waitress and tried no to look back. I tried not to look back and failed. The look on Nahuel's face broke my heart. I didn't know why his pain was affecting me so much, but I knew I had to get away from him before I did or said something stupid. But I knew then, even as I left, that his face and _these_ deaths… They would haunt me.

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**Author Note:**

_Okay, so not as much action in this chapter, but I thought the ending was subtly dramatic. No worries the action will pick back up but I thought i had left you waiting for a new chapter long enough. No worries, I do know where I am going with this story, I'm just taking awhile because of school. _

_That being said, this story IS a mystery. Although I've left loose ends I am also dropping clues!. Review, because if you have theories I'd love to hear them! _

_Even if you dont' have theories review anyway. I'm a review whore, your words make me happy. Tell me what you like, tell me what you didn't like, but please be kind!_


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